Truth and Forgiveness
by Lady Avarice
Summary: A little touch of both can heal a lot.


AN: I hate it when RL bites me in the rear. seriously, it cuts into the writing time. Let me know how I'm doing.

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_Hey Buffy,_

_I guess if you're reading this my ticket's come up. Knowing my luck, it was probably the Drunken Old Bastard finally having his fill of the Freeloader, to use one of his favorite sayings. That being said it's time you knew a few truths, and I apologize ahead of time. I know they're going to hurt._

_I lied to you about the curse with Angel. Not out of jealousy like you might think, but because to not have would have hurt you both far worse. Did you think about what would happen if Willow managed to complete the spell just after Angelus had killed you? Or what if she had never been able to finish it? Hell would be on earth and no matter what anyone says, I bet the Powers That Be Ass-wipes would have made his soul pay for it in whatever kind of afterlife he's have reached._

_The only way to make sure you fought your hardest, to make sure that Angelus lost, not matter the final outcome, was the lie to you. And I've hated myself ever since then._

_And if I have to admit it to myself, yeah I was jealous of Angel. He had a crappy home life, just like me, and yet in the end he got you to love him. I wanted that. Not necessarily with you (no offense), just someone who'd love me no matter what I did or whatever past screw ups I made. And don't say Willow would have, we both know she never forgave me for the Fluke, or any number of small things. She had an ideal of me that I never would have been able to fit. I could never have been her boyfriend, but I could be her brother and I was happy to be that. Yours too for that matter. I know you never saw me like that, just as a goofy friend and donut-fetcher and that's okay. Anyway, yeah I was jealous, he had the skills and knowledge to help and protect you, and for the most part I only ever seemed to get in the way. At best I was bait and if it helped, that's ok with me._

_Another truth, the Hyena and Soldier never really left. They were pushed down and locked away until the only thing that really came through was the need for a Pack, a Family, and knowledge of how to pull our collective tails from the fire when things went pear shaped. I didn't tell you because of what that stupid dog did to you, and what it nearly took from you. I'm glad you clocked me over the head with that desk, good aim. If you hadn't stopped me there probably would have been another death report the next day about a kid blowing his brains out. At least it would have been a change from barbeque fork injuries, right? I just couldn't have stood it if you and Willow pushed me away because no matter what I tried I couldn't get rid of them._

_I think that's it for the big truths. If there's any I missed then please feel free to spit on my grave, I know I've earned it._

_But one final truth, I wouldn't have done anything differently. I only ever acted, granted maybe childishly, to keep my surrogate family safe. Tell Willow and G-man I'll miss them, and let Oz know that it's not the fuzzy that controls you, but how hard you bring down that newspaper on its nose. If I can do it with a Primal Spirit he sure as hell can do it against that puppy. Added note, embarrassing nicknames help._

_I need you to remember something for me. I know I left at the beginning of the summer on my road trip, I don't know how well that'll turn out since I'm writing this before I leave, but remember to live. You're the oldest living Slayer on record, that's not something to put lightly. You are here because you want to be, and you're the best. You've made your Calling a gift, rather than a curse, and it'll stay that way until you let it ruin you. So don't let it, that Slayer Spirit is in you, it better damned well pay the rent. You might not need me anymore, if you ever did, but I'll beat this one into your head even if I have to haunt you. Live, it's the best thing to do with your life._

_Well, looks like I'm out of time, and out of paper, so I'll just say good bye, and please don't cry, you're far too pretty for that. Take care Buffster, and live a long healthy life for me._

_Love Always,_

_Your Xander_

She'd read that note a lot over the years. He had survived his summer road trip, called happily a few days before coming back. Willow had invited her out for coffees to celebrate college. The Espresso Pump had been lively, and the drinks somehow better than usual. When Willow had gotten a call from Xander's cell she'd put it in her purse and decided to call him back later.

They hadn't realized there wouldn't be a later, and wouldn't realize it for days. It had finally taken Willow of all people getting fed up with his avoidiness and tracking him down before they found out he was in the hospital.

He'd come back from his trip, was unloading his few possessions into the basement when his father had come home.

They'd arrived at the hospital to find him bruised, bandaged, and still very close to dying.

Willow had stayed in the recliner in the room while she'd paced, talking to him, telling him about what they'd do when he was all patched up. Once Willow even swore he smiled around the breathing tube in his mouth even if the monitors hadn't blipped.

Finally they'd been dragged off for food, sleep and showers.

When they'd gotten back he was gone.

He'd been gone over ten years now, and they still visited this little memorial when they could.

Potentials took up a lot of time of the two foremost teachers of Xander's School for Remarkable Youths and the Called and the New Watchers all tried to live up to the image of the founder of clan Scooby.

There were tales now, about an angel that watched over them, gave them a little more luck than any of them should have.

Still, that didn't really change anything.

"Hey Xan, the new girls are in and I think there's at least one you would have loved right off the bat. I mean, she showed up the other day in Scooby pants for drills! She's always laughing and joking and has an addiction to Sno Balls like you did your Twinkies. And one guy in the research division of the Watchers is almost a mini-Wils. Granted your mini-me has the babble down, but we're writing that off under Slayer stamina and lung capacity."

The note was old, folded and touch and worn with gentle handling. With a sigh she settled it on the stone marker, the first time it had left her person since she'd found it in a box of things he'd left for her. The memorial wasn't big enough, in her opinion, to mark the difference the goofball had made in her life, one she hadn't noticed until it was too late.

"I'm living, Xan, just like you asked. And I know I never said it aloud, but I forgave you for all that stuff years ago. And…" she miled, lightly kissing her fingertips before touching them to his name on the stone "thanks for watching over my girls."

A blink, and a feather floated down to rest softly on top of the note. She could have written it off as a bird's if the feather hadn't glowed gold in the sun.

And that achingly familiar laugh hadn't filled her ears for just a heartbeat.


End file.
